Recovery
by My Crazzie World
Summary: Tim, Curly, Soda, and Steve get in a horrific car accident that results in death and injury. How will the gang cope? No pairings; warnings: none, except maybe violence; set after the death of Johnny


**AN: So this is my first fanfiction... so please review and tell me what you think...**

**Disclaimer: I do not own S.E Hinton's characters or anything... sadly...**

**Pony's P.O.V.**

Nobody expected that car to come. We were returning from The Dingo's, Steve, Soda, Curly, and Tim in on car, and Me, Darry, and Two-bit in another.

Two-bit and Tim, the driver's of both vehicles, were currently engaged in a music war, attempting to drown out the other's selection with one of their own. With the volume cranked up, and the eyes of both drivers fixed on each other, everyone's reaction to the speeding van was late. Two-bit noticed the rapidly approaching headlights first, as he was reaching over to change the song. He swore and spun the steering wheel to the right, attempting to stop the car on the side of the road. Being an expert in drag races, he successfully stopped the car and shut off he stereo. He breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as he saw the car try to avoid **_him_**, and crash right into Tim.

**Tim's P.O.V.**

As soon as Two-bit swerved out of the way, I knew something was wrong. My assumption was correct when I saw a speeding van take his place. I moved over a bit - the van wasn't going to hit us - just like you do for ambulances and the fuzz. Apparently the van didn't realize Two-bit was moving- how they missed it I have no idea - because they swerved out of the way, too, this time heading for us. My stomach fell to my feet as I tried to follow Two-bit's actions, but I knew I couldn't make it. I guess Steve, Soda, and Curly knew it, too, since they were all sitting in the airplane position, with their heads between their knees.

My car did a 45 degree turn before the van crashed into us, conveniently right where I was. That was the last thing I saw before slipping into unconsciousness.

**Pony's P.O.V.**

Me, Two-bit, and Darry leaped out of my car and rushed over to Tim's. The van - which had now driven away, the cowards - practically pulverized the driver's side door and flipped Tim's car over on it's side, leaving Tim unconscious with his white tee-shirt and jeans jacket soaked with blood. I paled considerably when I saw Tim lying there, this was much worse than anything I'd seen come out of a rumble. Me and Darry jumped on top of the wrecked car and pried the dented door open to reveal Steve, sheet white, attempting to wake Soda.

"Are ya hurt?" Darry asked, wondering how they were going to remove a dangling Steve without dropping him on Soda.

"Naw, but... but no one's wakin' up, Darry."

Darry peered around Steve to see both Curly and Soda knocked out, Curly with blood dripping from his mouth, and Soda, his head buried in shards of glass.

**Steve's P.O.V.**

Glory, my head hurt. I banged it against the door, not hard enough to knock me out, but that don't mean it don't hurt. I looked over at Soda, then nearly fell on him - stupid seatbelt - but he was knocked out. So was Curly and... shoot, Tim looked awful. His arm was no doubt broken, even from here I could see multiple bones sticking out. There was blood pourin' down his face from a deep gash in his forehead, and somethin' must've gotten his stomach, because his shirt and jacket were dyed crimson.

"Curly!" I yelled, my hoarse voice barely reaching above a whisper. "Curly!" I tried again, this time forcing his voice to go louder. When I got no reply, I sighed. Curly seemed the least injured, and I figured I would able to wake him up.

Two loud thumps sounded on the roof and my head reflectively snapped back, sending a wave of pain down my spine. I groaned. I was much worse off than I thought I was. I brought my head down to its original position, hoping to ease the pain, but all it did was make me extremely dizzy. The 'roof' slid open and I saw Darry and Ponyboy's worried faces looking down at me.

"Are ya hurt?" Darry asked.

I remembered Soda and Curly and somehow back-burnered my own problems.

"Naw," I choked out, hoping my voice sounded relatively normal.

"But...but no one's wakin' up Darry."

He looked around, seemingly taking in the full damage before clearing his throat.

"Alright," He said suddenly. "We need to get you out." I picked up the unspoken question: got any ideas? I did. If I could balance on the seat belt, I might be able to pull myself out. Might. Anyway, it was worth a try. I pushed myself into a sitting position, which was quite hard with all the swaying, gripped the edges of the car, and pulled.

I was halfway out when my knees buckled, and I probably would have hit my head and lost consciousness if Darry hadn't been watching me like a hawk. He and Ponyboy quickly reached out and caught me, then helped me out of the car. I flopped down on the cool metal, staring up at the sky, wondering how I'd gotten in this mess.

**Pony's P.O.V **

We left Steve lying there for two reasons: 1: We needed to get the other guys loaded first, and 2: He didn't exactly look as if he wanted to move. With Steve out of the way, we had a bit more room, enough for Darry to lower himself around Soda.

We worked kind of like a machine, Darry would pass the guy to me, and I'd give him to Two-bit who would load them up in his car. I was feelin' real sick lookin' at Soda and Curly, but I got real green around the gills when I got ever so carefully passed Tim.

It was real hard to get a grip on him, he was drenched in blood, and it was making him real slippery. I handed him to Two-bit muttering: "Be careful." He nodded and placed him in the front seat, looking just as sick as I felt. We got Steve loaded up pretty quick, and climbed in too, though it was a pretty tight fit. Then Two-bit took off down the old dirt road, goin' 95.


End file.
